Out Of The Frying Pan And Into The Fire
by I Know You Gave Him The Bacon
Summary: On an AU, cold, flame-consumed New York night, at four AM, Kurt Hummel was carried in a totally swoon-worthy fashion from his burning appartment building by sexy fireman, David Karofsky. He lost his possessions; his home and his unfortunate six-month span of being a singleton, but there are worst things in life to lose.


**A/N:** Written for a prompt on the Glee Kink Meme (a really old one!) This is a future AU; pairing is Fireman!Dave/Rescued!Kurt, in case you didn't guess ;) If you want to leave a review, thank you very much for taking the time. I hope you enjoy!

**FD/RK**

"My god - there are people still in there!" one of the guys yelled from behind him. The men all looked up at the towering apartment block in front of them, where the flames were steadily consuming their way from the top floors downwards. They'd managed to evacuate all of the first ten floors, but some rooms had been blocked up by falling debris and crackling flame walls. Dave battled with the hose in his hands, struggling to keep it under control. He was exhausted - four AM night shifts and ten minutes of battling this thing left him immensely frustrated. It should be out by now. Everyone should be free; but no. It just kept going and going and going - and it showed no signs of tapering off; at least not before the people inside could be saved.

There had already been a death today. A little girl around midnight, on one of the jobs he'd had to sit out in case they had any more calls. They'd trudged back, grim faced and forlorn. It was never good to lose a life. It left them all bummed out by how frivolous it all seemed. What was the point of fighting the flames when you couldn't save the people trapped within?

Well, screw that. Seriously. They'd already had a death today - he wasn't going to let that happen anymore!

"Puckerman!" he barked at the figure desperately attempting to give out the aftercare packages the swarms of pyjama-clad victims. "Take the hose! I'm going in!"

"You're crazy Karofsky!" he roared over the thunder of the hose and the crackle of the fire. "If another oven explodes, you'll be_ killed_! Sam and Blaine already got out who they could!"

"Just take the damn hose!" he barked back, shoving it into his arms the moment he stepped close enough. The man struggled with it for a few moments before finally grappling a proper hold and aiming it for the bulk of the flames. He lacked the broad muscular structure Dave carried with him naturally, so it was more of a struggle, but damn it if he was going to let this fire get the best of their team. He could only hold onto the hose and curse as the blackened silhouette of the man pounded into the building.

Dave yanked his helmet down and charged right into the roar of the flames, checking out the stature and basic layout in a matter of moments. He heard the dulled screams and coughs of a trapped group from one landing, stopped from their movement to the front door by a beam that had fallen, obstructing their path.

"Stand back!" he ordered in a sharp bark, trying to console oxygen. They could only obey, choking in the panic and the blackened air. Dave slammed into it with his forearm, sending sparks flying and a dull pain throbbing through the limb. He held it back and smashed into it again. The wood splintered and the sparks licked at the air, dangerously close to his face. Gritting his teeth, he lifted his arm and hit it in one last, hard slam, splitting the beam in two and allowing him to rip it away. The structure of the ceiling sagged and he could only yell "everybody out!" and pray that they made it. There were other people to save.

He went barrelling down the corridor without a glance back, but judging from their cries of delight and relief, they made it out okay. Groups were a priority, but they could generally look after the weakened ones within it themselves. Free them first, then try to save the individuals personally. It was so hard, dictating who had the right to be freed first, but he had to follow the training.

'_Just another job, Karofsky'_ he chanted to himself as he started to search for unopened rooms. The owner had spluttered out that the place was practically full - but the left side corridor had been vacated due to damp. Good. No need to bother with it...

Only two locked doors at the end. One slam to the one on the right showed that it was empty - unvacated. The one in front, however...

The bed was unmade, the sheets flung to the sides. Black smoke obstructed his view of the room and he gagged, the singeing scent of it all burning his nose and crackling fire down into his lungs. He staggered forwards, desperately searching for the owner of the room. Was it empty? Where they already out?

No, wait; there! There, on the floor, half-keeled over and clearly suffering from the smoke; probably slept too long to be able to get out before it started to affect his breathing. He stumbled forwards and grasped onto the heaving figure - male, he noted when his arms flipped him over, cradling him into his chest. He glanced at the rooms and stairways on his way out, moving fast, but carefully, so he wouldn't disturb the uneasy structure of the place. No; no - doors all open; no blocked corridors or sideways... Everyone was out.

A gas oven exploded somewhere above his head, sending a fireball blasting down behind him, the explosion of colour dulling his senses. He stumbled for a moment, clenched his arms tight around the man, holding him safe, and staggered towards the front door.

One moment it was blazing corridor - the next, the cool night breeze washing over him, purging his suit, and he was staggering on smooth pavement, his chest heaving.

"Last one!" he wheezed to the paramedic, who immediately checked over the man in his arms to see if he was alive and fluttered off to tend to a sobbing child near the front of the group.

The helmet obstructed too much of his view. He slumped down onto his knees, placing the man onto the ground as carefully as he could. His hands fumbled for his helmet, wrenching it from his face and sucking in cool lungfuls of air, still wheezing and panting huskily.

The man. Was the man okay?

He lifted his head, although it took a tremendous effort, and found the most gorgeous pair of blue eyes staring at him in shock. One pale hand fluttered to the rumpled, slightly blackened cheeks, surprisingly still considering the recent brush of death. Under the blackness, Dave for some reason noted that the milk-white skin was slightly pink, as though the owner of those gorgeous eyes and that lovely hand was blushing. It was like a jack-hammer to the heart, and his stomach fluttered.

"You - you saved my life," the awed, husked, sweet voice murmured, those eyes softening into one of instant warmth. "Thank you so much..."

"Y-you're... um... welcome," he mumbled, a cough escaping his lungs. A paramedic swept over, a whole new team arriving to assess the damage, and the creature with the lovely eyes was instantly taken care of by soothing hands and a few firm questions of whether or not certain parts of him hurt.

**FD/RK**

Once the fire was successfully out and they were able to celebrate the fact that nobody had died, even in such a huge fire, Dave found himself helping pack away the hose, his shift done for the night. He'd already been checked out and he'd had no burns or permanent damage, despite the amount of smoke he'd inhaled. The suit, however, needed removing. He stripped off the thick rubber and packed it up, leaving him in an undersuit and his boots; a welcome relief after the heat of the uniform.

The man with the eyes was still curled in a corner, sipping on some hot tea and shivering under a shock blanket. He looked reasonably calm, if not a bit cold. Poor guy. He would probably be slumming it out in a church hall somewhere for the next couple of days until they could set them up in temporary accommodation.

Approaching the man slowly, he wondered if he could offer some assistance before he had to head back. They had to make sure to get a good idea of the damage entailed so they could file an official report; it would take a while considering the sheer size of the place. From the assessment of the fire, though, there wouldn't be anything to come back to. Possessions were lost; homes were destroyed; rooms were ruined by smoke and sludge and water damage... It wasn't pretty, but at least they were alive. The man seemed happy with this. His smile brightened when Dave stepped up, and it made his cheeks heat up a little more.

"It's you! My hero," he greeted, his voice softer; more honey-like now that he'd washed it away with a few glasses of water and what looked like half a cup of soup.

"Not really... I was just doing my job," he said with a shrug of his shoulders and a bashful smile. It was easier to do things when his face was covered by his helmet. He really wished he'd kept it on; and the suit. He was probably still sweating like a pig, and he was exhausted. He must have bags under his eyes and everything...

"Well, I for one am quite glad that you can do your job correctly." The stranger smiled, and little dimples appeared in his cheeks. It made Dave's stomach do a weird sort of clench and he slung one arm around his middle, fingers closing around the bicep of his other arm. It should cover his front sufficiently enough - and the dark should cover the sweat patches... At least everyone was alive. The man, especially. He seemed perfectly calm and collected now that he was curled up on the pavement, a blanket around him. His silk pyjamas couldn't do much against the cold. That must be why his cheeks were so pink; the cold. Right? That pretty mouth opened again and Dave started, realizing that the man was talking again. He really needed to stop staring at it, but it was just... fascinating, for some reason.

"Do I at least get to know the name of my saviour?" he asked, even managing to add a simpering note to his mildly trembling voice. If Dave didn't know any better, he'd think the guy was flirting.

"Um... I'm Dave. Karofsky. And I'm not a saviour; just a guy in a rubber suit. And not the kinky kind, either." ... Oh god, why did he just say that?

The man with the eyes let out a musical laugh with just a hint of husk to it. "I'm Kurt E. Hummel, at your service."

One dainty hand protruded from under the blanket and Dave awkwardly clasped it in his own, embarrassed by the fact his palm and thick fingers swamped the delicate structure of Kurt's willowy appendage. And he really shouldn't have thought of that word, because it was sometime after four in the morning, his hand was all sweaty and the guy had just been through hell. The last thing he needed was some fireman perving on him.

He realized he was staring at his mouth again, despite all of his reservations, and he flushed, embarrassed. Kurt seemed anything but; his smile widened even more and those blue eyes glittered behind long lashes.

"That voice of yours sounds worn out," he said worriedly. "Might I be able to buy you a drink to make up for it - maybe tomorrow night, if you're not out saving more lives?"

"Oh, um..." Dave floundered, stumped, and quickly removed his grip as though it had burned him, figuring that keeping a hold of a stranger's hand for that long was just creepy. The way he jumped made Kurt's muscles twitch, but he didn't really notice. He was too busy acting like a bumbling fool. Words man; words! You have them somewhere! "... I'm... not at work. Coffee? A pint?"

The guy probably didn't even drink pints. He looked more like the kind of guy to drink fine wine out of champagne flutes and flutter his hands for servants to come and fan him with feathers, or some shit like that. Classy. Fancy. Definitely Fancy. His hand had been all soft, and his mouth looked it too. A mouth which was currently turning up into a relieved smile.

"I would love to," he assured him with a small nod to punctuate his point, his hair brushing a little over his eyes, obstructing their gorgeous sapphire blue. One hand raised to his hair, brushing through it self-consciously, and the blanket slipped enough to show an array of collarbone slipping from under the collar of the silk shirt. "Say... seven at Stitch? You know it?"

"Yeah..." Dave's throat contracted, lifting from that ravishing view of his neck. "I know it."

"Great." Kurt was smiling again. "I guess I'll see you then."

"I should probably, um... get back to the engine. I mean, this was my last job of the night, so I should get going home..."

"That's fine. I'll see you later then, David." One small, dismissive wave of his hand and Dave knew instantly that he'd been right. This guy was confident and a grade A fancy, taking what he wanted, when he wanted. His heart gave a small thump at the idea that he might want... him.

"Um. Yeah. Bye, Kurt. I'm... glad you're okay. Just rest easy tonight, alright? They'll get you a place to stay sooner rather than later." With a final reassuring smile and a small pat to his back, he clambered into the engine with the rest of the team and drove off into the night.

**FD/RK**

"Fuck!" Dave hissed, his hand fisting at his cock furiously. The other clenched in the sheets under his body, his pyjama pants pushed down just enough for him to access his throbbing erection. It was five in the fucking morning, and he'd been fully prepared to just sleep, but the moment he lay down, thoughts had begun to... float into his mind.

His head began to supply him with helpful images, and he bit down on his lip to muffle his low sounds of pleasure. There was a slim chance of anyone overhearing with the thick walls, but it was a habit that remained difficult to break. Sweat trickled from his brow and he growled low in the back of his throat, thinking of sapphire eyes and soft lips ordering him around in a honey-silk voice and slim collarbones on display, begging to be marked, desperate for _him-_

That thought tipped him over the edge and he swore, the sudden mess on his hand and stomach taking him by surprise. He grabbed up a couple of tissues from the side and wiped himself down, tossing them away. His body was rapidly beginning to unwind and he let his eyes flutter shut, his breathing slowly returning to normal. His heart was more of a worry...

_'Damn,' _he thought right as the urge to sleep swept over him. He had the horrible feeling that this was a very bad idea.

**FD/RK**

**AN: **And that's all for now, but hope you enjoy so far. Second chapter should be up soon. Thank you for reading!


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